Come With Me - Modern Mythics Part 1 by BrigantineW < Submission

Keywords male 1220084, dragon 152384, male/male 128928, sfw 30024, story 14448, mustelid 9449, romance 9199, stoat 2385, hurt/comfort 283, slow burn 174, strangers to more 1

-
Janek
-

Early morning sun glinted through the glass walls of my top-floor corner office. The entire fifty-first floor held nothing but the upper management suites, divided into four even sections. The three suites my division heads used had offices for their direct reports, and secretaries, and... well, I didn't really know or care what else they used them for. I'd had mine turned into a penthouse, and had been living in it ever since I'd opened ZieleTech all those years ago. The place was a palace, with floors of white marble tile, solid walls of glass letting in the morning light, solid furniture made of steel and clean white leather... everything glinted or gleamed around me.

It was perfect. Why did that not please me anymore?

I swirled a clear glass of... something. What it was, I could not say. It was liquor, of course, and had been a gift from some sales flack who thought he could impress me with a price tag. Was it three or four thousand, did he say? I took a sip. It was so well distilled that it lacked anything resembling a flavor. Disappointing, I thought. Once, villagers brought offerings of gold and silver and begged me to end the latest plague. The memory of a mother's face when her baby's fever finally broke would forever be etched upon my memory. And what had I traded that for, exactly? Assistants that left spreadsheets in my e-mails and begged me to read them. Scientists sending me research reports, begging me to let them go to live trials.

And little toadying nobodies bringing me booze that tasted like damp air. At least it burned nicely on the way down, so it wasn't entirely a waste. It took very strong alcohol - or a lot. Preferably both - to get a dragon inebriated. If I was lucky, this bottle might take some of the drudgery out of the day.

As I lifted the glass to my lips for another drink, I heard the beep of the key card lock from the other side of my door. I didn't even have time to call out to whoever it was before my head of research and development burst into my private office. Living room? It didn't matter; they served the same function for me.

"Jan!" cried a bright, bubbly voice.

With a groan, I met Katrina's jubilant eyes. It was far too early for this. "Doctor Jamison," I said with a curt nod in her direction. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

The gray and white she-wolf froze for a moment, tilting her head to one side and wearing the oddest expression. Then Kat crossed the room, snatched the glass from my paw, and slugged me right in the shoulder. Something popped, and she winced, shaking her hand while glowering at me. "Jan! We've been working together since forever! What the fuck is that, `Doctor Jamison'?" Hand pain apparently forgotten, she wagged a finger threateningly under my snout. "You getting all formal on me again is a bad sign, you know."

She was fifty-two and four months (I always surprised them when I remembered their birthdays), stood all of five foot four and was, at best, a hundred pounds soaking wet. Despite that, I rubbed my shoulder where she'd hit me. Kat never held back - scales or no, I was going to bruise. "All right, fine. Katrina, to what do I owe the pleasure?" She slowly raised a fist again, and I had to bring up my paws in surrender. "Kat! Always with the violence! Czemu!"

"Hmph!" Somewhat placated, Kat placed her fists on her hips. "You promised me the quarterly sales report by end of business two days ago, then you dropped off the face of the planet and nobody's been able to get hold of you." One paw waggled her key card. "I'm still the only director that has access to you here. I had to fly in early from the Monaco conference just to check in! Monaco, Jan! It was beautiful there! Frank and I - "

I blinked slowly. Had that really been two days ago? I vaguely recalled the conversation, but sales reports were boring. Why would I ever say yes to that? "Have my assistant take care of it," I said, waving her off. "Monica - "

"Monica hasn't worked here in months, Jan. Neither has Bell, or Harmony, or Landon. Landon only made it a week, for chrissakes!" Kat pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a deep sigh. "You've been pushing all your work onto your secretaries, and they've been burning out faster than a lit match. Helene in HR just stopped hiring them. We were wondering how long it would take you to notice. I'll have to let Bill in accounting know he won the betting pool - a month and a half on the dot."

"Um." I tried to come back with a retort, but I had nothing. I floundered a bit more before I finally said, "Have I really been that checked out?"

"Yeah, you have." Kat leveled a sympathetic look at me. "We thought you'd come out of it at some point, but you never did. And you wouldn't talk to me, or Reggie, or Victoria. We're supposed to be your friends, asshole!" She placed one of those shockingly strong paws on my shoulder and gripped tight. "Do you even know what today is?"

Was that a trick question? I glanced down at my little desk calendar. "April ninth?"

Kat sighed, patting my shoulder a few times before dropping her paw. "Jan," she said sadly, "It's our thirtieth anniversary."

"Oh." I scratched the back of my head with one of my claws. How had I forgotten that? I started the company to give back to the world, to once again be a protector and savior of the innocent. Modern technology had given me the potential to do so much more than potions and unguents in a shack down by the river like I had all those centuries ago. It filled me with purpose, drive. My friends and I had thrown everything we had into it, and now it was just... "Oh," I mumbled again.

"We're all worried about you, you know." Kat took my glass and pulled a long sip, grimacing at the burn. "You've been pulling away for a few years now, but these last few months have been, frankly, terrible." I reached for the glass, but she snatched it away and slugged what remained in one large gulp. A gasp of air left her with a gusty 'pah!' sound before she slammed the glass down and grabbed both my shoulders.

"Reg. Vicky. Me and you. Tonight. At Charlie's, where this whole adventure began. You're going to come, you're going to get drunk on shitty beer, and you're going to have a good time. Got it?"

"I, uh..." My hesitation must have made Kat angry, because her grip on my shoulders became painful as her thumbs pressed hard into my flesh. What is even the point of all these scales, anyway?! I wondered. But I relented, if only to save myself from some very awkward bruises. "Fine! Fine, I'll go!" I groused. "Now unhand me, brute! Ach, were you raised by lumberjacks?"

Kat immediately wrapped me in a tight hug, causing me to stiffen. I didn't do... physical affection, as a general rule. However, my frozen state did nothing to deter Kat's affection as she slammed a paw on my back a few times before finally letting go and holding me at arm's length. "Good for you! We'll get you back in the saddle yet."

Was this normal for people? I always let my assistants handle the specifics when it came to grand gestures. When you had three credit cards with no limit, you didn't need a hoard anymore. Someone said money can't buy happiness, but when I paid off the personal debt of every person in the company, well. Unless I missed my mark, they had been quite happy.

I perked up at that. "Oh! Will we be going riding? It's been an age, but I think I could manage."

She blinked, tilting her head and fixing me with a puzzled expression. "What? No, it's a - nevermind. Six o'clock sharp, you're meeting us out front. I'll call us an Uber so that we don't need to drive later. And if you're late - " she thrust a single finger underneath my snout, "I'll have you by the ear and I'll drag your happy ass to the bar. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes ma'am!" I gave her a mocking, brief salute, which made her laugh. That felt good, making someone laugh again. Gods, how long had it been since I did that? Was it true? Was I coming apart? Perhaps, just a little. I could admit that much to myself.

Kat and I made our goodbyes, and when she left, I poured another glass of that flavorless alcohol before sitting at my computer. Wondering if Charlie's still had that Polish beer I used to drink, I pulled up their website. I'd intended to call them to see what they had on tap, but a pop-up with their weekly events impeded my search for their phone number. Oh, well. I could at least check to see what was going on tonight...

- Open Mic Night, Fridays 6PM til Midnight! Sets limited to 10mins each! -

"Oh, good," I murmured to myself. "The musical equivalent of a root canal. How... exciting." Well, I was definitely going to need that beer.

Fuck. Would they sell me the keg?

-
Gavin
-

I kicked a couple stale, old pizza boxes out of the way as I plopped my ass down on my futon to lace up my boots. Open mic night was just an hour away, and I'd barely gotten out of the shower a few minutes ago. I glanced into the grungy, cheap-ass mirror I'd hung on the wall beside me.

Yup, that's me all right. All five-foot-eight of me, white-furred stoat lookin' heroin-thin and red-eyed. That pizza I'd snagged from earlier would help, but that'd have to get me through till at least tomorrow afternoon, and Todd and his pregnant girlfriend had to eat too.

Whatever, I could skip a couple more meals. I barely even felt the hunger anymore.

Todd leaned in the doorway, frowning at me. He was a stoat like me, but a couple inches shorter and had brown-and-cream coloring. He was stocky as hell, though, and I wondered how he was that buff when he worked as an intern at a fucking law firm. At least he was hot to look at. Dude was allergic to shirts at home. He and his girlfriend knew I was gay, and they'd never cared about it. Hell, Alisha keeps daring us to kiss when we go drinking. Bet she's secretly into that shit. Is he into that? Shit, has Todd been holding out on -

"You listening to me?" Todd's voice broke into my thoughts, and I jumped a bit, the squeaky futon frame shrieking out a protest.

"Nope!" I smiled cheerfully at him as I pulled on my second spiked black leather boot. "You're gonna have to repeat yourself. Was too busy checking you out."

Todd rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. Uh-oh, this was actually serious. I sat up a little straighter and focused on him. "Dude. You know I love having you here, and fuck knows we needed the money. You've been Alisha and my rock these last few years, and we fuckin' love you. But..." He sighed deeply, pushing an errand dirty blonde curl out of his eyes. "Look, we're gonna need more than two square feet to raise a baby. And Alisha's about to pop any day now, and I just... I dunno man. We need the space, but we want to make sure you're taken care of, too. You got any leads?"

Not a damn plan in sight, my guy. "Sure do!" I lied straight to his face. "Got a few feelers out there. It's just a matter of time now." Todd was frowning, so I punched him in the shoulder. "C'mon, man. This is me we're talkin' about! I'll be just fine. You know I always land on my feet." I stood up a little too fast, swaying as the room spun around me. Damn, maybe I really should eat something. Nah, no time. Open mic starts soon, and I have to catch the 5:15 bus.

My best friend didn't appear convinced, but he nodded slowly just the same. "Okay, man. Whatever you say. Just be careful, all right? Come on, Alisha wants to wish you good luck."

I pulled on a black mesh top and my black crop-top leather jacket before I put on a chain choker collar. My eyes flicked down to my make-up bag, and I considered putting on the eye-liner. Guy-liner? Whatever. It didn't matter what I called it, Trent (the dickbag) had told me I looked too girly in it when he broke up with me. Whatever, I thought. I'm fuckin' hot either way.

Todd and I made our way to the living room, where a bulgingly pregnant fox sat on our dumpster special of a couch. "'Sup, Al?" I tilted my chin at her, and she giggled.

"Hey there, killer." She vaguely waved a hand at the rusty folding chair across from her as Todd sat by her side. "Siddown. Play me something before you go."

I blinked. "Al, I don't have time - "

"If you miss your bus, I'll get you a rideshare. I want to hear something. What about the one about sunsets and new beginnings?" Alisha leaned back and wrapped an arm around Todd's shoulders, roughly jerking him close. The man could've resisted, but he never did, and collapsed against her with a happy sigh.

"Yeah? All right. It's not done yet, you know." She murmured her understanding as I popped the lock on my guitar case and pulled out my all-black Fender Stratocaster.

It was a real Strat, too, not one of those knockoffs. I strummed my thumb down the strings, letting the harmony hum around me. My fingers caressed the chip in the lacquer I'd gained at my first gig ever, and I let ten-ish years of nostalgia wash over me.

It was my sixteenth birthday. My older sister had asked for a car, her twin brother had asked for a motorcycle. I just wanted that damn guitar. It was the only thing I'd asked for, the only thing I'd even wanted. I thought that if I could just get that, I'd be primed to go for a career in music.

My family were all in business finance, the lot of them. Mom, especially, never saw the value of going for a music degree. It shocked the hell out of me when she came home that evening with a guitar-shaped present, all wrapped in glittery paper and tied with a big ol' bow. When I pulled it out, I cried for a good ten minutes. I thought they finally got me, you know? They finally understood me, thought I could make it, believed I was as worthy as my older siblings.

Hah. Fat chance.

The minute I turned eighteen, they kicked me out. Took my college savings fund, too, saying that it was for a `real degree', not some fake liberal arts crap. I'd gotten into college on student loans and grants, living on campus for the four years of my degree. Maxed out my loans, but I got that fuckin' degree! And I had a recording exec scoop me up right out of college, too. Wanted to give me a record deal, said I had a perfect voice, real star power.

Then the fat fuck pulled his dick out.

Obviously, I walked. He told me I'd never sign a deal in this town. Hate to admit it, but four years of pizza delivery later, I hadn't been able to find anything but gig work. The tips helped, but honestly, if I had to go back and do it all over again?

I don't know that I could've told him `no' a second time.

I set the guitar in my lap, slipping into the strap and tuning it quickly. My thumb brushed the notched chip again, and the pad of my finger fit inside like they were made for each other. Then, I strummed a chord, and let out the first notes of my song. I got through the first two verses and the refrain before I had to stop. Alisha clapped and cheered, and Todd stuck his fingers in his mouth and blew out an ear-piercing whistle. I felt my face heat, and I palmed my pick as I lifted my paw to rub at the back of my head. "Sorry, I told you it wasn't finished. I know how it starts, but I haven't heard how it ends yet."

"You'll get there." Alisha whipped out her phone and tapped a few buttons. "I called you an Uber. Promise me something though?"

"Thanks, babe. And sure, anything."

She reached out and took my paw in hers. "Play that tonight. It's the first song you've written since you graduated, and it's so good. People need to hear it."

I laughed. "But it's not finished!"

"Doesn't matter. Play it. Promise me!" The fox tilted her head and gave me the most perfect puppy-dog eyes I'd ever seen.

"You bitch." Alisha cackled, and I rolled my eyes. "I'll see, okay? I only get ten minutes. But if I have time, I'll do it. Just for you."

Her phone vibrated, and Todd picked it up as Alisha was still pre-occupied with batting her enviably long lashes at me. "Oh, hey man, your ride's here. It's a green sedan." Todd made a shooing motion with his paws. "Get outta here! Knock `em dead!"

"You guys are too much. I..." my throat got suddenly thick, and I choked a bit. "I love you guys. So, so much."

"G'wan, git!" Alisha put on the most atrocious fake southern accent, but her eyes were a little misty as she smiled at me. "Tell us all about it later!"

The ride to the bar was quick and way more comfortable than the bus. Hopefully, I'd make enough in tips tonight to get another ride back. I only had to wait around for like, thirty minutes before my name got called, and as I stood behind the stage, bouncing on the balls of my feet, I felt that energy. The electric feeling that I only ever got from a good show, when I killed it on the mic and the guitar practically played itself.

"Tonight's the night, big man!" I let out a little whoop as the MC called my name and I bounded out onto the stage.

Tonight's the night something's gonna change. I can feel it in my fuckin' bones.

The spotlight hit me, and I squinted a bit as my eyes adjusted. The bar, even shadowed like it was, still showed me a crowd packed in like sardines. A handful of people even clapped for me, and one weird woman called out my name like I was a big-name rock star. "Thank you, Charlie's!" The mic hissed as I pulled it close to my muzzle, and I yelled out, "You all ready to fuckin' rock?!"

Hell yeah, there it was. The cheers, the excitement. This crowd was hyped all to shit, and the energy buzzed through me like I'd bit into a high-voltage power line.

Fuck yeah!

Let's do this shit!

-
Janek
-

Charlie’s was only ten minutes away from HQ, and Kat had our ride ready and waiting when I got outside at 6:00PM sharp. I did not need that freakishly strong woman dragging me around by the ear. What would HR think?!

The first show was already playing when we walked in. It was some pop princess singing—no, screeching, loudly and very off-key. "Wstręt," I muttered as we ambled over to the bar. One benefit of being over seven feet tall and built like a damn tank was that people scurried out of my way like the little mice they were.

The squirrel behind the bar leaned over to take our orders. "What're y'all havin'?"

I blinked, her accent taking a moment to filter through my brain. "Oh. Right. Do you have 'koźlak' on tap still?"

"For you, Mr. Koźlak? Always. Everyone here knows the story of you naming yourself after that swill." She smiled, without an ounce of flirtation or ulterior motive behind it, and that alone caused me to smile back. She'd be getting a good tip tonight. "You want a pitcher, big guy?"

I nodded eagerly as the poodle on stage hit a particularly ear-splitting note. She gave me a glass, too, but I waved it off. I was quite large, after all, and honestly, I'd need at least two to get drunk enough to enjoy this... well, whatever you wanted to call it. It wasn't music, that's for sure. A more apt description was 'the place where music comes to die'.

We had a table right next to the stage, giving me a full view of the musical carnage that was happening as Reg, Vicky, Kat, and I reminisced about the good times. The next act came on, sounding so much like the first that I almost didn't notice the change. I was thankfully on my second pitcher by then and just beginning to feel warm. I leaned over and hollered over the latest mangled song into Kat's ear. "Hey, Kat!"

"Yeah?" she shouted into the open air, knowing my hearing was leaps and bounds better than any mortal species.

"This is awful!"

Kat nodded enthusiastically. "Right?! It's great! Let me get you another pitcher."

She was gone and back by the time the third act was wrapping up. "Just in time! Za naszą przyjaźń!" I snatched up the pitcher and drained it in two long gulps, making my friend's eyes bulge. "What? I was thirsty!"

"What th'hell did you just say?" Reggie asked. Vicky and Kat nodded.

I felt my scales heat, and I suddenly found myself unable to meet their eyes. "Ah, it's nothing. Just..." I coughed a bit before mumbling out, "it means 'to our friendship'. Or something like that."

Three sets of arms wrapped themselves around me, squeezing tight and making various disgusting cooing sounds. I growled, and my friends backed off, laughing. There seemed to be a brief interlude before the next set, which was a blissful break for my ears. The nice bartender (whose nametag read `Monique', I saw) simply brought me two pitchers of beer and left them at our table, saying something about how Vicky told her to keep them coming. I saluted her, picking up the next beer before the MC announced the next singer.

"Okay, everyone, we've got a special return guest tonight! It's Charlie's own diamond in the rough! Give it up for the one, the only, Gavin Russell!"

There were some scattered cheers, and one drunk woman screamed, which was unusual. I'd thought this was amateur hour. How was this man so familiar around here? "Promising," I murmured, and brought my pitcher to my lips.

And then he walked on the stage. No, he didn't walk. The man bounced like a rubber ball, barely contained energy bursting from his very core. And what the hell was he wearing?

Black leather boots that laced up to mid-calf, with silvery buckles and spikes and leather straps that didn't seem to actually do anything at all. Black jeans, painted on and torn all over, letting plush white fur peek through in great swaths. Some kind of mesh top that hugged his rail-thin form and gave only the illusion of modesty. Black knit gloves riding up to his biceps with little silver spikes all along the sides, and...

"Is that a lip ring?" I wondered aloud, then I cursed as I returned to myself. I'd been so distracted by that man I'd spilled beer all down my nice white button-up, soaking it and my lap. "Vick, do you have a napkin - "

"Thank you, Charlie's!" The white-furred stoat - that was what he was, yes? Not a ferret? Stoat, yes, had to be - yelled into the microphone, and I instantly snapped my gaze back to him. Gavin? That was his name, right? He wore a wicked grin now, and his guitar that was slung over his back slid to Gavin's front. "You all ready to fuckin' rock?"

A cheer, even louder than the first, rose from the crowd. The energy was honestly infectious, and I downed what beer I hadn't spilled on myself before standing to get a better look.

A stage hand ran a cable to Gavin, and he plugged it into his guitar with an audible pop and screech. Then he raised the pick, brought it down over the strings...

Wow. Just... fucking wow.

It was what the previous acts had been trying to do, but they were pale imitations compared to him. Punk rock had never been my style, really - I leaned more folksy - but this was addicting. His voice was clear as a bell, contrasting the almost crunchy (was that a thing?) notes he played. The bar had provided a backing band to the singers tonight, and the drum and bass lines thudded through the space, accelerating my pulse to a fever pitch.

But what really struck me was how Gavin moved with the music. Every swing of his hips, every bob and nod of his head, the sweat that darkened his fur and flew off in little droplets... He was so... so...

Alive!

Damn.

He's having fun!

For eight minutes, he slammed from song to song, each one more electrifying than the last. But then he waved the band off, leaning into the microphone. Wait. Is he trembling?

"Okay, so, uh..." Gavin's voice trembled, and I caught his eyes darting nervously across the crowd. "This next song is something I've been working on for a while now. It's really special to me, and it's not done yet, but I promised a friend I'd play it tonight. So, yeah." He smoothed his sweat-slick white hair back and cleared his throat. "It's called `Come with Me', and it's - naw, fuck it. Here goes!" He took a deep breath, held it for a minute, then...

He sang.

Kurwa. Shit.

I expected more heavy rock. More half-shouted lyrics. More of the burning, angry energy he'd brought with the rest of his set.

Not this.

His voice was smooth, rough edges gone, and he'd palmed his pick to pluck the strings with bare fingers. The lyrics spoke of a sunset, closing on something that had been good, and right, but was over now.

But the second verse spoke about starting again. A new beginning. A sunrise, shining on something that would take the place of what had been. It wouldn't be better, or worse. Just different. It could never be the same, because nothing ever would. It spoke of trying again, and again, until you found the right path.

The path that carried you forward.

After the second refrain, the song cut off abruptly. I'd been so mesmerized by Gavin's song that it came as a physical shock when it ended.

Wait. That was it? What about the rest of it? How did it end?

I turned to Kat, who'd stood to join me. "That was... wow."

She nodded before turning to face me. "Yeah, you can say that again - Ей-Богу! Were you crying?!"

I dabbed two fingers against my cheek, and they came away wet. "Oh." A little smile tugged at the corner of my lips. "Apparently, yes."

Kat whistled low and long. "Well, hot damn. I didn't know you could do that anymore."

Me either, I thought.

Another act had come on. This one was singing country music. They weren't actually that bad, but following Gavin was a hell of a thing to do. "Shit," I mumbled, glancing around. "What happened to him?"

Kat shrugged. "I don't know. He's probably still packing up - hey!" I'd turned to walk away, and she grabbed my elbow. "Where do you think you're going?"

I slipped out of her grasp easily, turning and walking backwards to call out to my friends as I headed for the backstage. "There's, ah, someone I want to meet! I shall be back later!"

Kat shook her head while Reg and Vicky cheered. My face heated again, but this time there was a similar fire pooling in my gut.

And why was I trembling?

The beer was getting to me. That had to be it.

"Pull it together, Jan," I muttered to myself. "It's just some random stoat. It's nothing to you."

So why did it feel so very much like something?

-
Gavin
-

"Hell yeah!" I crowed, pumping my fist as I stepped off the stage and into what passed as backstage. Really, it was a section of the bar floor they'd walled off with fabric curtains, and my favorite bouncer Rich was manning the entrance. He was a tall brown bear, built out of solid muscle. Seriously, the dude was jacked, but he still had a little cushion around his midsection that I longed to bury my face in. But we'd been down that road, he and I. My man was straight as an arrow. I'd introduced him to a friend of mine, Mina, a couple months back, and the pair of them seemed pretty happy.

Yeah, Mina's happy. Todd's happy. Alisha's happy.

When the fuck is it gonna be my turn?

I slapped my paws on either side of my face a few times, shaking my head. No way was I letting my pity party interrupt this high. Setting my guitar in its case, I was just closing it up when I heard raised voices coming from Rich's direction. With a frown, I slung my case over my back and trotted over to the gap in the curtains, stopping to listen in.

"I'm telling you one more time, man - nobody gets backstage! Not unless you're part of the act. I know Gav's started gettin' some groupies, but unless he says so, not you, not no-one's getting back there!" Rich was loud, half-shouting, but he was talking real slow, clear and deliberate. I frowned, trying to figure out why he sounded so weird.

Turns out I didn't have to wait long.

"Nie! You do not understand! I just want to say hello, hi. Yes. His song, the last one, i-it was..." Whoever it was, they were slurring their words a bit. Great, I thought. Another drunk fan. The deep voice had an accent of some kind, though I couldn't place it. Wasn't like I was super well-traveled or anything. He mumbled under his breath before speaking again, shouting words that had way too many consonants. "Cudowne! Przepiękne! Bah, my English is not... right." Another muttered jumble of letters that were probably words, if I had to guess. "Here! I tip! Good song!"

"Buddy, that's not gonna work - " Rich sucked in a breath through his teeth. "Jesus H. fucking Christ." His voice shot up an octave, trembling as he called through the curtain. "Uh, Gav? Buddy? You better come out here. I dunno what's goin' on anymore."

Weird. But fine. I stepped around the little hallway they'd rigged up with the black fabric walls and almost planted my face right in Rich's ass. He was all bristled up, but his stance didn't say 'pissed off at this drunk asshole'.

No, the way he leaned back, one foot behind the other, his beefy left arm holding me back behind him wasn't giving anger vibes.

Shit. Was he... scared?

I peeked out from behind the big bear, and my jaw just about hit the floor. "Holy shit," I thought. Oh, both of them are looking at me now. Did I actually say that out loud?

Oops.

Well, I stand by my assessment. Rich was big, and I mean massive, built like he ate rocks for a living. I'd made Mina tell me how tall he actually was after he claimed to be six-foot-ten, and I'd been right. He was six whole inches shorter than that. Still, I was a lil' itty-bitty thing compared to him.

Whoever this lizard was, he was enormous.

Rich had nothing on him. Tall, dark, and scaly had to be at least a foot taller than the grizzly, if not more. He had a distinct beer gut, sure, but it was the only thing soft about him. He'd rolled his sleeves up to his biceps, which strained and stretched the fabric, and his trunk-like thighs similarly bulged out of his khaki pants. Oh, and his tail? Yeah, it was almost half as long as he was tall. It stretched out behind him like a rudder, swaying back and forth gently as it tried to stabilize the drunk. He was the kind of guy who ate skinny little fucks like me for breakfast.

"Uh, hey?" The lizard man had been staring at me slack-jawed since he caught sight of me. I gave a small smile hesitant wave, and he blinked slowly before grinning back. Still wasn't talking, though, so I looked up at Rich. "What's this guy's deal?"

The bear was still on high alert, and he spoke without ever taking his eyes off of scaleface. "Say's his name Yahn, or something. I thought he was just a drunk, but, uh, he gave me this?"

Rich passed me a wad of something green. I took it, turning it over in my hands a few times while I stared at 'Yahn'. Was that with a 'J'? Sure. Anyway, 'Jan with a J's' eyes lit up - if I hadn't known any better, I'd have sworn they actually glowed green - and he nodded vigorously at the paper wad I held in my hands, looking so damn pleased with himself. Like he was a cat and just dropped his latest kill in my shoe.

I finally looked down, and I choked. My grubby little paws held a fat stack of cash. Singles? Who just carries a wad of singles? I thumbed through them, my heart thumping faster and faster with every passing bill. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck?! These are hundreds! There has to be, like, ten grand in here!

There was only one reason people threw that much money at someone like me. It didn't happen often. Only the one time, really.

But I'd be damned if I let that happen again.

Winding back my arm, I pitched the cash as hard as I could at lizard lips. It hit him right between the eyes, and his face melted into pure confusion. Rich tried to keep me back, but I wasn't having it this time. I stalked out from behind him, hackles raised, and shoved a finger into Jan's face. Yeah, so I had to stand on my tiptoes to do it, but that's life. "Oh, fuck you!" I said with a feral snarl. And by some miracle, the massive dude took a step back.

Emboldened, I swiped the cash up off the ground where it had fallen, and jammed it against his chest. "You take this bullshit back right the hell now! I don't know who you are, or what you think you're doing, but we're gonna get one thing through that thick skull of yours right now." Drawing myself up to my full height, all five-foot-eight (and a half, thank you very much), I roared as loud as I could. "I. AM. NOT. FOR. FUCKING. SALE!"

He flinched at that, and at least he had the decency to look ashamed, the prick. "No! No, no, was not... was not like that!" He seemed to shrink in on himself, not that it really brought him any closer to my height. "Was gift! I-I-I... ja jebię, why did I think this was good idea?" His shoulders slumped as his head drooped, and he looked so defeated I almost felt bad for screaming at him.

Almost.

He shuffled in his pocket, pulling out a slim black metal box from which he pulled a white business card. Lizard lips held it out to me, pleading with his eyes. "Take. Please. Just want to talk." He burped, grimacing like he'd mouthed something nasty. "Not tonight. Am drunk. E-English... not so good right now. Later, maybe?" Jan extended the card to me again. "Please?"

I snatched it away from him and balled it up in my pocket. "Fine. I took it. Now get the fuck away from me," I said through gritted teeth. "I don't ever want to see you again."

Jan didn't say a word. He just nodded, shoulders and back hunched. Didn't make excuses, didn't try to explain. He just looked... damn it, he looked so sad. I watched him go, slinking back to the front of the house, impressed despite myself at how he weaved through the crowd. Must be some drunken master shit.

Rich didn't breathe easy until the stranger was gone from sight. "Holy hell, did you see that guy? Freaking massive! I'm super lucky he wanted to be friendly, `cause he coulda ripped me to pieces." He turned to me, slumping his shoulders. "Did you know that guy?"

"Nope," I said. "Never met him. But I know people like him. Think they can buy whatever the fuck they want, like money can get you anything and everything." I sighed. "Look, man, I was gonna stay, but can you call me an Uber? I think I'm done here for tonight."

The burly bear nodded at me. "Sure thing, bro. I got you." He tapped at his phone a few times, then slid it into his back pocket. "Five minutes. Red minivan."

"You're the best," I said, punching him in the shoulder. True enough, my ride showed up fast, and I hopped in. Unfortunately, the driver wasn't much of a talker, and so I had to stew with my own thoughts on the drive back to the apartment.

What the hell was that about? Ten grand? For what? Some shitty covers and half an original song - no way was that guy legit. The money was probably counterfeit, too. Real people don't just carry that kind of cash on them.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes as I slipped my paws into my pockets.

Oh shit, wait.

Where's my phone?!

I'd just finished patting down the seat beside me when we rolled up to our building. After the driver kindly helped me search, and we confirmed it wasn't in his car, I headed up the stairs. Bet I could borrow Todd's phone and call Rich, see if I'd -

Todd and Alisha's panicked voices echoed through the paper-thin walls. They were shouting so loud I could hear them all the way down the stairs. Worried, I burst through the front door, just in time to whack Todd in the face with it.

"Ow! Fuck!"|"Shit, sorry!"

Todd moved, and the rest of the door swung open to reveal a panting, sweaty Alisha and a wan-faced Todd rubbing his snout with one paw and holding a duffel bag in the other. I frowned. "Hey, sorry man! Guys, what's wrong?"

Alisha muscled past me with Todd following. "Check your damn phone! It's on the table."

As they hurried down the stairs, the stoat called back, "It's cool, man! Baby's coming!"

I stood dumbstruck. The baby was coming? Now?! But it was too early! She should've had another two weeks, one at the least!

My first thought was super happy. I was gonna be an uncle! Guncle? Who the hell cares? I was fabulous, and that kid was gonna reap the benefits.

My second thought was a lot more selfish.

What the fuck am I gonna do now?

I slumped over to my phone, picking it up and reading the short novel's worth of frantic text messages I'd missed. Apparently, during all that, they'd had enough time to give me my two-week notice to vacate.

"Shit," I muttered. I had no other friends, my family was definitely out of the picture, and I couldn't afford a place of my own on something as fickle as a tip jar. Burying my face in my hands, I allowed myself exactly one pitiful moan. Fuck it, two pitiful moans. And a sad, sad shake of my head. Seems like a pity party is the only party I can afford.

I went to pull out my wallet to see how much I had left. Could I grab dinner?

Nope, not with only two dollars to my name. Fuck, how is that somehow worse than being completely broke?

With a growl of frustration, I shoved the wallet back into my pocket, but it got stuck on something. Frowning, I rooted around until I came back with a crumpled up ball of paper.

"Right," I huffed. "Creepy lizard dick." The one who apparently decided ten thousand was the magic number to buy my time.

Definitely stalker material. I'd have to get Rich to keep an eye out for him.

Still, I thought. He hadn't looked angry when I yelled at him. Not even defensive. He was just... sad. Rich people don't get sad. Right?

That was weird, right?

Weird or not, curiosity got the better of me, and I unfolded the card. Right away, I noticed that the paper they'd used was super nice. Thick and heavy, with a slightly raised texture that felt nice on my paw pads. The back of the card just said 'ZieleTech' with some logo of a lizard head with... horns? And one of those staff things, with the snake. Yeah, I thought, don't they make drugs? Not the fun kind - no, like actual medicine. Okay, that tracked so far. Then I flipped it over and read the name on the card.

Janek Koźlak. CEO/Founder.

My eyes just about popped out of my head.

What. The actual. Fuck?

There was a phone number listed next to the name. Janek. I Googled it. Apparently, dude was Polish, which explained the accent. His last name just pulled up him and some gross, cheap beer that Charlie's kept on tap that nobody ever ordered.

Oh, and from the number of articles I was flicking through, he was freaking famous.

"Dragon of Modern Medicine Saves Millions!"

"Janek's Top Ten Foods for Weight Loss! Number Four Will Shock You!"

Yeah, calm down, HuffPost. Was he like a Komodo dragon or something? It would explain all the dragon references they kept making, I guess.

Hmm. Some guy, richer than God, decides he likes me enough to literally throw ten grand at me.

And I threw it back in his face and screamed at him for his trouble.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, I turned the card over in my hand. I had two weeks. Two weeks to find something - anything - else.

I pulled up the job posting sites I'd signed up for last month. They hadn't gotten me anything yet, but hey, there's a first time for everything, right?

-
Janek
-

"He's not going to call, you know."

Kat and I sat in some little bistro she'd dragged me to. The food was boring, as always, but well made and hot, so I ate it dutifully while Kat grazed on a salad. "Come on, Jan, it's been what, a week and a half? Throw in the towel at some point."

I sighed, letting my head drop into my scaled hands. "But I truly want - no, need to talk to him! He was so angry, and ferocious, and... and..." A deep groan escaped me, so low it shook the windows in their frames beside me. "Like little tiger. Vicious." I made little clawed hook shapes with my hands, my sharp claws always on display. They'd been filed down to something more manageable last month, and they were close to needing it again soon. "What I do not understand is where it all went wrong. I wasn't that drunk - "

"You were tanked, my guy." Kat poked me in the chest with her fork, and I scowled at her as I wiped white dressing off my cashmere sweater vest with a napkin. "And clearly he has some class, because you literally couldn't pay him enough to be with you."

"Hey!" I reached out and flicked the end of her nose, which made her laugh so loudly the other diners gave us angry looks. In a quieter voice, I said, "I wasn't trying to pay for his time! I was giving him a tip! People tip musicians they like, no?"

"Not ten large, you idiot!" Kat crammed another forkful of salad into her mouth. The woman had one of the most brilliant minds I'd ever met, and she ate with all the delicacy of a flock of hungry chickens. Carnage everywhere. No survivors. "What's that dopey grin for?"

I blinked. "I... dopey? What is 'dopey'? And for that matter, ten large what?"

The she-wolf sighed. "Dopey is... you know what, forget it. It's not important. And ten large means ten thousand dollars."

"Oh!" I pounded my fist into my hand. "Was it not enough? Did I insult him? If he'd said something I'd have - "

"No, you massive idiot!" Kat stabbed down and vaporized a crouton. "Are you really that out of touch? Do you have any idea what he probably makes in a night?"

I considered that for a moment. "Well, he's very good. But the location isn't very good." I tapped a claw against my lower lip for a while, humming to myself. "And he is very young. Perhaps just starting out? But again, he is quite excellent. Better than anyone else that night. Let's go on the low end... fifty thousand?"

Kat had been taking a sip of a rather luxurious red wine. I ended up wearing it as she exploded with laughter. "Fifty - ? Oh my God, Jan!" She reached over the table with her napkin and started dabbing at my vest with her napkin, staining the white linen a deep pink, while I muttered about dry cleaning bills. "Jan, if he made as much as a hundred, I'd be shocked."

"A hundred thousand? So, I was too low, then?"

She seized my chin and forced me to meet her eyes. "No, Jan. A hundred. Dollars. A one with two zeroes behind it. That's it. Full stop." Kat released me and sank back into her chair. "Fifty thousand. Sweet lord, give me strength."

"What?" My mind was running calculations faster than my mouth could keep up, so I just made some sort of ongoing croaking noise that quite distressed the fox couple next to us. A hundred... dollars? Flat? But that's nothing! Literally, nothing! I've had accounting errors a hundred times that size I've just written off, just the cost of doing business. And that was relying on luck?!

Finally, I managed speech again. "Kat?"

"Yes, Jan?" She blinked up at me, one eyebrow raised.

"I think I might have fallen out of touch."

She scoffed, and I frowned. "You think?" Her long fingers drummed the tabletop before she fixed me with an inquisitive stare. "How long has it been since you had to worry about money?"

I hummed, leaning back. The chairs were extremely comfortable - I was considering taking one or two home with me. "I don't know. It's been a long time, I think. My hoard was physical most of my life, but I invested it early in the railroad system. That's when I started using mortal currencies. So, a little bit before the steam locomotive was invented?"

My friend blinked, then pulled out her phone and started tapping away on it. "You've been rich since the seventeen-hundreds?!"

"I suppose, but it's not important," I said with a shrug. "Mortal money affords me to do whatever I desire, but in the end, it's all worthless. Currencies come and go with time - I miss the days of gold and silver, you know. But eventually you'll all come up with something else and I'll have to change over again. I've been hearing interesting things about BitCoin."

"Oh my God." Kat shook her head and flagged down our server for the check. "I should've known. You built a whole pharmaceutical company without ever taking out a single loan. I thought we had some really rich angel investors, but... it was all you, wasn't it?"

I nodded simply, and she sagged, suddenly looking... older. The lines on her face deepened, the gray around her muzzle grew more pronounced, and her eyes looked so, so tired. "Why don't you take a walk back to the office, Jan? I think I need some time alone."

"I..." Frowning, I leaned forward to whisper at her. "Did I do something wrong again?"

Kat flapped a hand at me. "No, no, nothing wrong. We just lead... extraordinarily different lives, is all, and I need some time to myself so I can let that fact settle in." She offered me a wan smile. "It'll all be fine. Go." The barest hint of a sparkle returned to her eye, and the smile turned teasing. "Try to pick up some perspective on the way."

I stood, and with a waved goodbye and a promise to meet at the office, I walked out the door and onto the busy sidewalk. There were so many people out there, bustling around, moving so quickly, like everyone was in a hurry to be somewhere else. I took a single step into the teeming masses, and instantly got swept along, less a conductor and more of a passenger on this ride. At least I was more or less headed toward ZieleTech. I could see the massive tower in the distance, and assumed I would be there in around ten minutes. Why didn't I walk more often?

Thirty minutes later, I was sweating, gasping for breath, and my legs were burning. Being a dragon meant I had large muscles, and to be sure, I was strong. But cardio was a whole different beast, and I'd hidden myself away, locked in my tower for nearly thirty years.

Right. This was why I didn't walk more often.

Gulping down air, I plopped down on a nearby bench, fanning myself with one paw. Take a walk, she'd said. Pick up some perspective, she'd said. My left ass cheek! What knowledge was to be gained from -

A sudden cool breeze hit me, and I couldn't suppress my audible moan of relief. "Thank the gods..."

"Uh, don't mention it?"

I started, turning to the voice I couldn't have forgotten in a million years. There he was. Gavin. Fanning me with a piece of poster board like it was a perfectly normal Tuesday afternoon. Standing tall - well, tall as the little guy could. Definitely proud, though. My knight in... a grease-stained taco costume?

"What the fuck?" My calculated, carefully controlled manner of speech shattered entirely. When Gavin just laughed, I repeated my question, which seemed to only make him laugh harder.

"Dude," he said, wiping away tears that were streaming down his face. "That was so worth it." He stopped fanning me, and I grumbled unhappily under my breath. "I dunno, man. You looked like you were about to die. And you might be a dick, but on the off chance you weren't, I thought I'd come see what you're about. Unless you're stalking me for real." His eyes narrowed, like he'd only just now considered the possibility. "What the hell, man? What are you doing here?!"

"Am not... stalker." I smacked my dry tongue against the roof of my mouth. Why did I live somewhere that boiled with thick, wet heat all summer? "Just on a walk. I'm as surprised to see you here as you are me." Clearing my throat, I turned away, feeling a strange fluttering feeling in my chest. Am I having a heart attack? I cannot be that out of shape... "I, ah, truly thought I would never hear from you again."

Gavin raised an eyebrow at me suspiciously. "You... went on a walk. And you ended up here?"

"Yes...?" I let my voice dragged the affirmative out into a question. "I was trying to get back to - "

A beeping chime sounded from a backpack hanging from Gavin's hand, and he pulled out a cellphone. I'd actually had the same model, what, eight years ago? The cracked screen and dented sides attested to multiple drops. "Oh, hold that thought. I gotta get back to work." He jogged away to the corner of the street, holding the posterboard he'd been fanning me with. It was shaped like an arrow. How... quirky? Is that the word? "I'm off in fifteen!" he called over his shoulder.

And then he began to... wiggle?

I watched, dumbfounded, as he spun the sign - and that's what it was; a sign for some eatery called `Tacos Locos' - around and around, flipping it up into the air sometimes, other times passing it in circles behind his back. And throughout this bizarre display, he danced. The little stoat was light on his feet, flitting back and forth. He even did a few backflips, which looked so incredibly dangerous that my heart did a flip with him every time. It was like watching a demented butterfly as it careened - almost drunkenly, but somehow still gracefully - from one flower to the next. Brash and brazen. Colorful, but concerning. Confusing, yet somehow...

Jesteś śliczna.

That man is dressed like a taco, he's drenched in sweat, and I can smell his sweat from here...

He's lovely.

The alarm sounded again, snapping me out of my reverie. Gavin scooped up his backpack and disappeared into the eponymous restaurant. I waited patiently, and earned a reward when he trotted back out - minus the costume - with a greasy plastic bag containing some foil-wrapped packets, two large plastic cups, and his backpack slung over one shoulder. "Hey," he said, jutting his chin out at me. "Budge up. My legs are killin' me. But I got us lunch!"

I didn't know what `budge up' meant, but I figured it out when he stood in front of the bench, looking at me expectantly. So I shuffled over, and he flopped down next to me. Our thighs were touching, and I sucked in a breath at just how warm he was. The man's body was practically on fire, and compared to an honest-to-goodness dragon, that's no simple thing to claim.

"Oh, I've eaten. But I don't mind joining you while - " I sniffed the air. Something was... oh. Something smelled absolutely delicious! My mouth watered at the scent of spices, roast meat, garlic, and something sweet and citrusy. Oranges, perhaps? It was all I could do not to drool on the man. "Ah," I said, licking my lips. "What is in that bag... exactly?"

He laughed as he tilted his head up at me. "Just a taste of my world, man! These are only the best carnitas on the east side." He set the cups down on the sidewalk near his feet before looking away sheepishly. "I, uh, kind of panicked the other night. I've had some time to think, and I..." Gavin swallowed hard. "Well, you said you just wanted to talk, yeah. A lot has changed for me recently, and, well. One lunch, though!" Gavin started rooting through the bag. "Just one lunch. That's all I can do for now. Deal?"

I nodded excitedly. "Yes! It's a deal!" His white-furred head bobbed matter-of-factly as he handed me a pair of the foil packets. I didn't want to admit I did not know how to get into these things, so I watched and waited. Gavin frowned at me, eyes moving up and down my body assessingly, then moved one of his two packets to my lap before peeling open the remaining one. He took an enormous bite, either not noticing or not caring how the orange-colored juice ran down his chin. The moan he let out was positively sinful, and I hurried to unwrap mine.

It was the best thing I'd ever tasted.

Every bit as delicious as it smelled, it was rich and meaty, with the sharp bite from fresh onion and garlic to cut through it. "Cilantro's never been so good," I mumbled through a mouthful of taco. The second one disappeared in just two bites. I chewed thoughtfully and swallowed, casting an eye over Gavin as I opened the third. "Do you know what a gift you've given me?"

He shrugged, crossing his arms over his stomach. "No, whazzat?"

"Truthfully?" I swallowed down the last of the taco and leaned back, giving a most ungentlemanly, very satisfied belch. "That was the first time I enjoyed a meal in over twenty years. I forgot that food could have flavor! Honestly!" I sighed contentedly, leaning back and letting my paws rest on my stomach. "I've tried the most expensive foods, hired the best chefs, and been to restaurants so exclusive that even I was put on a waitlist. There isn't much I haven't tried, and eaten, repeatedly. Time and again. After a long enough, it's all the same. It's, well... boring."

This earned me an odd sort of glare from the stoat. "Yeah?" His voice was bitter, and it didn't sound like a question when he muttered, "What's that like, exactly? To have so much food you can get bored of it?" His face went stony as he spat out his next words. "Tell me more. Tell me more about that."

My stomach sank a little. "A-Ah... Did I say something wrong again? Kat warned me I'm out of touch. I don't understand what I did, but I'm... sorry?" I let my voice creep up at the end.

"It's... nothing," Gavin huffed out a breath, deflating slightly. "You know, they're good tacos, but it's not all that special. But, um..." he crumpled up the foil into a ball and dropped it into the bag before tying it up. "You're welcome," Gavin said, a smile ghosting his lips as he breathed out the words. "F-For the food. Always happy to share," he mumbled before moving to stand up. I followed his lead as he cleared his throat and said, "You were walking in the wrong direction for a long time if you ended up way out here. Why didn't you call an Uber?"

Oh. There it was again, that twisting, aching feeling in my gut, the rush of heat in my cheeks. "I, er... don't know how."

If looks could kill, I'd be stone cold dead on the pavement right now. "What the fuck do you mean, you don't know how?" Gavin shook his head and made a tsk! sound. "Here, give me your phone. I'll show you."

Without a word, I nodded and held my phone out for him. He snatched it from my hand, mumbling, "Spoiled rich assholes. It's just a damn app. Fuck, even I can't screw this up - " He spun it in his hand, with a motion similar to how he'd flipped the sign over. One turn, two... And the phone slipped right through his hand. It hit the pavement hard, right on the edge of the display. Cracks spider-webbed across the screen, darkening it instantly.

"Ah, well." I stared down at the broken device before shrugging, then added teasingly, "Guess I'll have to take a raincheck on that lesson you were offering - "

An odd choked-off squeak interrupted me. I finally looked up, and the young man's face, well...

Sheer terror.

"H-How much was..." A nervous pink tongue darted out to wet his lips. "Wasn't that the one that came out last week? How much - Oh my God, I just broke a... I think I'm gonna be sick." And Gavin doubled over, hands braced on his knees, hackles raised and his short tail completely fluffed out behind him, panting for air. A tremor started in his paws and quickly spread to his torso before traveling down his legs. Suddenly, he snapped his arms to himself, squeezing tightly while shifting his weight between his two footpaws.

His lips started moving, but no sound came out at first. I cleared my throat. "Gavin? Is something the matter?"

"That was it." His voice sounded so small, so hollow. Fragile, like the sugar sculptures from my younger days. It was just a phone. I had several, and they were mere tools, nothing more. I didn't understand. Getting attached to one was like choosing a favorite person - in the end, it was all replaceable, anyway. Why care?

I opened my mouth to tell him, but he gnashed his teeth together, gritting out, "That was your last, last chance, Gav, and you broke his god-damn phone!" His paws fisted in his long, thick hair, yanking in a way that almost had to be painful. "No, no no no, you can fix this." His breathing became erratic, and I almost reached out to rest a paw on his shoulder, but he bent over again. "You can buy him a new one. You have to, you idiot, you broke it. Shit, aren't those like two grand? Where am I gonna get - fuck!" Then, to my utter shock and great alarm, he punched himself right in the face. "Fuck! Stupid, stupid - "

There was no hesitation on my part. None. It only took a moment to reach out and capture his thin wrists - hm. Far, far too thin. How had I not noticed before? Gripping him tightly, I hissed out, "That is quite enough! What in all the god's good names do you think are you doing?!"

Gavin squirmed in my grip, fighting to break free so hard he started sweating and panting. Endurance might be something I needed help with, but my strength was unmatched. He had no chance of breaking free before he told me exactly what was going on.

A strangled sob cut through the busy mid-afternoon bustle, so loud I nearly dropped him. Where had that... ah. Gavin looked up at me, tears streaming down his face, snot running from his nose. "P-p-please..." he gasped out. "Please let me go..."

I swallowed thickly. Why did this, this... crying, of all things, affect me so much?

He's breaking. Right in front of me, he's breaking. I've made less noise leveling cities than this one's heart makes.

Piękny. Beautiful.

It was with the utmost care and softness that I whispered, "Are you going to hurt yourself again if I do?"

"N-No..." Another great sniffle, coupled with a flush that turned the tips of his little ears bright pink. They looked so soft, almost inviting, begging to be tugged and teased.

When had I gotten so close to him? We were almost chest to... well, face. I dropped his wrists like they'd scalded me and took a step back. "Good. Very good. Now, are you going to tell me what that was all about?"

He looked away with a pout and crossed his arms over his chest. "It doesn't matter to you, does it?" Gavin sniffed and bent his head. "It's just been a shitty day. A shitty week. A whole fuckin' shitty life." He let out a resigned huff, but I caught the almost imperceptible way the man's lower lip trembled. "One more shitty day. What's it matter, anyway..."

Well. I didn't understand what he was going through. There apparently wasn't a lot I did understand, really, not when it truly mattered.

But I remembered, millennia ago, when I'd been the god of a tiny, nowhere village. An enormous fish in a tiny puddle. No name, no dot on any map, nothing special. We grew wheat and potatoes and beets, and when the harvest came in, we made the most disgusting vodka I'd put in my mouth. Ever. And `ever' was a long, long time for me.

That vodka, too, was lovely. The village, too, was beautiful. And there was something familiar that stirred in me. A driving need to protect, to serve.

To care.

And now, I was one of the most powerful men in the world. I could actually change things.

I didn’t have to understand Gavin. Not completely, not yet. Perhaps it could be enough to just try.

I waved down the nearest taxi, grateful the digital era had not put them out of business. When it screeched to a halt, I opened the door and gestured at Gavin to get in.

He seemed confused. "What... what? What are you doing?"

I smiled at him, the first genuine smile I'd worn in longer than I could remember. "I've loved seeing this part of your world, however small, and I cannot wait to see more."

"You see, Gavin, if you'd like... if you'd take a chance and... and come with me, as you say..." There was that fluttering feeling again, and a flush of heat. It came with a strange energy that had me bouncing on the balls of my feet. "Please. Come with me. I wish very much to show you a part of my world, too."

The little spitfire gave me a sidelong glance. "What if I say no?"

"That is your choice," I said instantly. "Say the word, and I'll leave you alone forever." Please don't make me leave. I really don't want to forget about you.

"I probably should say no," Gavin said, tapping his chin. Then he shrugged, popping up on the balls of his feet. "Definitely should say no." But he stepped forward, hesitating only a minute when he hovered by the open door with his paw landing on the frame. He brought those fierce, critical eyes to my face, scanning and searching for something. I couldn't tell what he was looking for, but the hard-set line of his mouth and tightly clenched jaw made me worry he might not find whatever it was. We stood staring at each other for a long moment before he snorted, nodded stiffly, and ducked into the waiting car. I was stuck, frozen until his voice chimed out from the taxi. "Well? You coming or what?

I remembered the lyrics from his song last night. Sunsets and new beginnings. When I climbed in next to Gavin, he shied away from my bulky frame, pressing himself hard against the door in a way that couldn't possibly be comfortable. That wary distrust oozing out of his every pore made me want to hunt down whoever hurt him and exact a toll from them money couldn't pay for.

Still, this was... something. I could feel it in my bones. Like Gavin's song, it was a new beginning. Something that wouldn't be better, but wouldn't be worse.

It would be different. Just different. And finally, after all these years, this new, different beginning was mine.

-
To be continued...
-

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